8. of secrets and convocations

8

of secrets and convocations

Rivian

"How long do you plan to keep her there?" Troian is at my back as I enter the castle a few hours later. I had to make sure the Society was brought back to safety in their prospective housings before the sun rose knowing just how destructive that could have been on its own. I also wanted to avoid the confrontation I knew I was undoubtedly going to meet.

I walk deeper into the castle, too hopeful that I'll be able to escape to my room without being bothered, but alas, my sister keeps up with me.

"Rivian?" She reaches for my elbow to stop me from continuing further, and I huff at her knowing that I have to answer for my actions. "You can't keep her there forever."

"I understand that, Troian. But until I have something figured out, I can't risk her pulling another temper tantrum like the one at the Gilded Hollow. I need to find out how to cure the curse running through her veins." I'm conflicted. I don't want to keep my wife locked up. I want to help her. But right now, keeping her locked up is the only way I can help her.

Troy meets my tired eyes with her own. Her arms are crossed over her chest, and I can tell she has so many questions she wants to ask, but for some reason her focus is on Lucynda.

Leave it to my sister to be the forgiving type, making the rest of us look bad. I wouldn't be so quick to seek the rescue of the one person who just ripped my heart out in search of death. But maybe she's already been made aware of the one minor detail I managed to keep from everyone. The one where Ameliana and Amy are the same person. The detail that means that Troian and Lucynda are sisters. But surely, if she knew, I wouldn't have heard the end of the form of betrayal I enacted by keeping that information from her.

I let the moment of silence Troy allowed me to fall on deaf ears, knowing that I'm not clear of war and argument about what has gone on tonight. I know I have many voices to face and a lot of trust to gain back, even if they don't know I am their betrayer.

"I hope to God you know what you're doing, Rivian." Her words are soft under her breath and would barely audible if I weren't paying attention to her.

"She gave me this." I hold up the small, clear bag filled with the dried and crushed lavender. "She said it would subdue the curse." I toss the substance to her. "I need you to mix this in with something."

"Like what?" She shoots me a sour look, as if I'm stupid and me asking her for something so simple is a waste of her time.

"I don't know. Cupcakes, brownies, tea. Something that won't allow for a fight if Lucynda decides to be defiant and deny the help." I'm stern with my words, a little more on edge now having reentered the castle for the first time tonight. There's a new element about the place, something that tightens the air and shrinks the walls. Likely because I've let go of too much of my reality tied to being king in my own castle and allowed it all to slip through my fingers. It doesn't feel like my castle anymore.

"Leave it to the female counterpart to be stuck in the kitchen while the world is in literal flames." Her sarcasm isn't subtle and I know she's only trying to lighten the mood, but there isn't even a mood to be lightened when all my brain wants to do is shut off.

"I don't find your attempt at humor funny, sister . I am agitated and exhausted and I don't know the first thing about baking . Find yourself useful." I wave my hands at her and attempt to walk away, recognizing that I'm back to being a prick for no reason other than because I'm antagonized with my guilt.

"You pompous ass," she huffs. "I don't suppose you found yourself useful by asking that wretched witch for a solid cure for your little blood sucker, did you?"

I turn to meet my sister standing in a very demanding stance.

"I know better not to ask for more than one favor at a time from any coven of witches, especially the Lunarnyx. I now owe them a debt and they will expect me to pay." I focus my attention on my sister, noticing the cloud in her eyes. She's tired too. Of what, I don't know. Maybe this mess? Maybe near death took her out. Regardless, I swore to always protect her and I have failed. I won't fail again.

I square my shoulders, knowing I have to keep my head on straight and lead with dignity and surety if I want anyone to listen to my orders or follow my commands.

"I don't let many people get away with defying my rules in my kingdom. Not only am I livid with Lucynda's behavior, though I know it is not of any fault of her own, but the Faction will surely be all over this soon enough. Another infraction added to the rather long list of errors in my pitiable judgment." I stand back, waiting for her to tell me I told you so or to throw my admission in my face. I am admitting fault, I surely thought she'd revel in the victorious moment. But instead, she takes a few steps forward and lowers her tone.

"The Faction will never know what Lucynda did."

"I don't suppose you could elaborate, sister . There were nearly two dozen bodies scattered on the floor of the Gilded Hollow and-" she holds her palm to my chest, urging me to stop talking and listen.

" And . . . I went back to clean up the mess after binding your bloodied bride to the chains in the dungeon. Dumped all the bodies in the ocean and made the venue spic and span. Might have compelled a few lazy low-lifes to help with the cleaning and dumping parts. But no one will know what took place in the Gilded Hollow." She lowers her hand back down to her side and I take a deep breath. Yet another person coming to my rescue when I am owed no debt by any of them. And when I am supposed to be the protector.

I don't deserve her. My sister, despite her undying love for tearing out the hearts of pitiful boys after she uses them for her own selfish pleasure, is in all ways a saint. It's why I never question her little gruesome hobby and quite frankly, as long as she sticks to the treaty rules and stays discreet, I don't care. We all have to find a way to deal with what we are, something to keep us from getting too complacent in a world where we are expected to feed off blood and outlive the lives of the peasant mortals. But of all the Nocturnes in the world, she deserves happiness the most.

She nods to me in silence, letting me know that I have her assistance, no matter the ask. It only creates a deeper hole in my chest where I know I've lost her trust. But for now, she's on my side and that's all that matters.

The small sliver of time shared between us is soon interrupted by the deep growl of a very frenzied guard storming down the hallway.

"How could you!?" Kacian's voice booms between the darkened walls, not much more than gothic paintings lining them as his shouts of betrayal join in a reverberation throughout the tight space.

He's trudging angrily toward me, rolling up his sleeves as veins pop out from his neck, his face red with rage.

"Calm down." Troian tries to stand between us with her palm out to Kacian, but I hate the way that she feels like protection is her job. She can't handle Kacian . . . I can.

I don't even flinch as he nearly pummels through her before she rushes to move out of the way.

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down." He's seething as he breathes through clenched teeth. He comes up to me, toe to toe. I can feel the heated anger radiating off him and I knew this moment would come.

Kacian has been in my family for far longer than I was born. In fact, he's the oldest Nocturne in this kingdom, having just celebrated his one-hundred and thirty-sixth birthday earlier this year. He was my father's Factotum before I swore him in as my guard the day after the king passed. Kacian, as well as many, did not favor my father but he was a far better man for withstanding him as he did. He proved to be loyal and protective and as vacuous as my father's death might have been, Kacian felt partially to blame for not protecting him in that moment. I would never fault him for such.

I assigned him protection of the new queen, to be her keeper essentially, before she went unknowingly psychotic. He's stern and big, six-foot six, and does very little with words ever since I've known him but right now, he's letting out his fury on me.

Zharus doesn't fall too far behind Kacian, scurrying around the corner and coming up short behind Kacian's back. "I tried my best, Rivian, but he just . . . lost it." I've never seen Zharus set worry in his eyes more than he has when he feels responsible for something that had happened to me. I guess that's a strong trait for most Factotums. But he's concerned as well as everyone else should be. Kacian doesn't get mad. He gets even.

I look up into his eyes, blood nearly rising in the whites of them as his hazel irises seethe with a severe darkness.

I don't remove eye contact with Kacian as I speak my demands to my Factotum. "I need you to see what you can do about Travois. Updates. Anything. I'll take care of this." My words are precise and exacting, careful not to break the heated gaze of the oldest family friend the Duquesne's have ever known. I know he wants my blood. But I'm concerned he'll accept anyone's blood right now.

"There's no need for an irrational game of tag, brother." A familiar voice speaks up from behind me, and if that wasn't a good enough indication, Troian's celebration of his presence hints to me that Travois is somehow free from his imprisonment and now stands right behind me.

"Trav!" I sneak a small peek from my peripheral to see Troy jumping into his arms with a little bit more avidity than I'm sure she intended.

"Do I even want to know?" I grind out at the exact same time as I realize I've lost my level with Kacian.

In the snap of a finger, I'm thrown back into the wall furthest from me. My back hits a light fixture, connecting with the sharpest point sticking out from the candelabra and the sting of the intrusion bites at my back as the vintage piece of metal pierces my skin.

"Kacian!" Troy shouts at him from a few feet back as he storms my direction.

"It's okay, Troian," I say in a sharp, but labored tone, feeling the pain from the object stuck in my back. "Let the man squander his problems. Soon he'll realize that I am not the enemy."

Kacian approaches where I'm still hooked into the wall, the pain not much to complain about in comparison to what my wife left for me earlier.

"You brought her here! That makes you the enemy!" His tone cuts through the silence around us in a fit of fury. The dimly lit recessed lighting in the ceiling above surges for half a second before powering back on. "You know what she did to me." His voice is low and triggered by the pain buried deep into the memories of his greatest, yet forbidden, love. His greatest loss. His greatest enemy.

Nathairia.

I try to maneuver myself off of the sharp point stabbing me in my back. I palm the wall, both hands on either side of me and use my feet to kick off. I'm not far above the ground, so as the sharp piece of metal slides out of my back—blood squelches as it dislodges from my skin—I don't have to drop too far to land on my feet.

I steel myself and stand to face the irate man before me, leveraging my tone with the rage in his, eager to hope that he'll heed my warning. "I also know what you did to her ."

"Don't you dare try to turn anything on me. You-" Kacian sets out to toss me aside to another part of the hallway, the look of hatred set deep in his eyes.

I'll let him, if that's what he really wants, he can toss me around until he’s tired. He won't win this battle against me. But we can fight this war all day long.

We haven't talked much about the night everything went down since the deal was made with the witches. We swore it would leave our minds and we almost went as far as to compel it from our brains, but I can't be compelled unless by another Royal and we decided it was far more the hassle than needed. What was done, had been done and we had both moved on from that night.

Until now. But I couldn't have known that I'd need to break the deal in a rather desperate act of needing her help. But unfortunately for Kacian, his torment and guilt are no match of importance when it comes to that of my wife or the rest of the Society.

"ENOUGH!" Troian's voice breaks through the fight I'm eager to let play out. He can take all of his rage out on me, it won't lessen the blood on his hands.

"All of you." My sister looks between the four of us. "This has got to stop. Can't you see that everything is falling apart and you are all acting like a bunch of little scorned bitches."

The animosity between my brother and I. The Rogue. The secrets. My wife's curse. My desire for absolution in revenge. And now, the witches.

All of which I play some sort of role in.

"Somebody better start fucking talking or whatever is happening, it's going to ruin us." Troy throws her hands in the air.

"I'd like to stay out of this." Zharus puts his hands up, palms out, in mock surrender as he attempts to back away. I turn my head to face him, wondering why the fuck he's been acting like such a . . . pansy .

"Oh, no you don't." Troy rushes to him and forces him back forward, making sure he has no time or room to escape. "I know you've been sneaking out to see someone at Valor. I'd like to know who?"

There it is, the first request for answers from a secret that wasn't in fact kept hidden too well. Is it anyone's business other than Zharus who he decides to spend his free time with? No, not typically. However, I do see importance in making sure that he is where he says he is, something that I should have been keeping up with myself but I let it slide so that I can partake in my own unforthcoming agendas. I knew his extracurricular activities would soon find their way to light. Not that I ever considered his choice in lover a need for secrecy, but rather whom it might be is something he seems to want to keep unknown and I do fancy interest in that.

Zharus turns his eyes to me and I don't do much to defend him. I might not extend the luxury of prying ears to be privy to the knowledge that I hold of the current situations at hand, but I sure as Hell won't turn away from whatever is about to be spilled from the mouths of the others I seek to gain control of for the better part of a plan. Or rather, to garner intel to determine who I can and can't rule out in the case of the Rogue. My wife's situation will be dealt with soon enough.

"Don't look at me," I say to my Factotum, who is obviously seeking some sort of help from me. I know if the roles were reversed, he'd no doubt cover for me but in this case, he has no choice but to come clean and I won't let him skate by so effortlessly.

"I caught you. More than once," Troian adds, while walking back around to face him.

She takes a place between Kacian and Trav. Kacian still seething with rage as he forces himself to calm his anger to be present enough for whatever meeting Troian insists on holding. Kacian knows well enough to control his anger now anyway; I am still his king.

Travois doesn't stand too far from me on my left as Zharus is now closer to me on my right. Ironic that the circle we form has more broken fragments than we care to admit when really, the five of us are who we should trust most. Next to the cursed queen in the dungeon, that is.

"Obviously, we're all holding on to secrets here." I give a very firm glance to Kacian, letting him know that I will not play nice the next time he tries to fight me for his mistakes. "And Troy is right, we need to end whatever this is."

"Care to start, brother?" Travois' voice is not entirely the one I expected, seeing as he hasn't said more than a few sentences to any of us outside of what I forced him to reveal. I squint my eyes at him, unsure of what he might be asking of me.

"I implore you, Travois. Do not be so eager to start pointing undeserving fingers like you didn't harbor the most profound secret from your family for years." My voice is resolute and calm, but nothing short of declaration and demand. I won't be taken for a fool by the likes of my brother.

Troian takes note of my words, likely remembering the moment we both found out what he'd been hiding from us. That he had known all along that their mother was alive and was even sneaking around our backs to meet with her. I should have been more upset with him for his deception, but it was of no use to cause another war when there was already an unspoken one brewing between us.

"I assure you that the boundaries of my promise to keep certain information sealed was of good intent to our mother." He turns to Troy in hopes that maybe—even in his smugly, proud tone—that she'd learn to understand. "But I think it's awfully humorous that you aim to unearth my rooted secrets while desperately burying your own." A devious smirk paints across his face and though I've mastered the game of poker long, long ago, something in me raises awareness that he might actually know what he is talking about.

"What do you claim to know that I'm hiding?" I don't let my demeanor slip even though I know he's not bluffing. He's got something on me and if it's going to come out, I'll let him have this. He's always sought out the attention of anyone who would give it to him. At least, he used to.

After he turned, he became distant and cold, sometimes hiding away for weeks on end not caring to participate in conclaves of the Society or even wanting to stay relevant, not wanting anything to do with the world around him unless it could benefit him. I hated him for it, only because our father never cared enough to punish him for his disobedience, yet, I always listened to our father and I was treated to bruises and starvation.

But before he turned, Travois used to always make it known that he wanted to be king and that he deserved it more than me. His greed led to the reason why he wears the lone black glove on his hand at all times now, forced to remember the time he nearly decided he was done chasing a hopeless dream.

I think we all hold our breaths, waiting for whatever secret of mine he claims he can tell. Possibly the one where I've known Cyn for nearly two years and forged her path to me, interfering in others' lives to make sure she made it to her rightful place. Though, that hardly needs to be worried about in the form of secrecy seeing as I can do whatever the fuck I please, and making sure my future wife was safe in my reach is hardly something that can't be shared to the others. But then there's the treachery I planned to ensue once finally getting my hands on Ameliana for the loss of something so valuable to me, and for the betrayal she promised me when she only sought protection for the twins. Had he figured out my plans and now he's ready to dish it out on a silver platter before I'm even ready to plate it myself? That is the one thing I'm terrified to bring to my siblings' attention, though part of me wonders if Travois would even care.

Or maybe-

"Lucynda Claire," he deadpans. "Now known as Lucynda Duquesne."

Troian looks at me in utter confusion. What could her twin brother possibly be on about, right? Then again, she knows about the curse, and he doesn't . . . but that's not something to be proud of per se. Knowledge of the lavender curse could wage more war for—potentially—Lucynda's death, seeing as I can't remember a time in history where anyone survived that kind of curse. But that can't possibly be what he's about to share. So as Troy's blue eyes leave mine to focus back on the notably knowledgeable speaker in the room, I prepare for a shot of disappointment to ascend from my sister because I fear I know now where this is going.

"You know, it’s crazy to think that destiny could have had different plans for her…" Trav pulls his sinisterly painted eyes to my own, "Sweet, little Lucy. Like, say if her mom didn't flee the first time around, shortly after having given birth to twins, she still might have ended up a Duquesne at birth. The irony." His tone is menacing as he threatens to divulge the truth I opted to keep from them.

"What the fuck are you on?" Troian shoots him a look of dubiety with her wide eyes, her arms crossed over her chest and her hair thrown over her shoulder.

"But you knew that already, didn't you, Rivian?" Travois doesn't falter his glare at me, telling me in whatever fucked up way he sees fit that he knows exactly what I think he knows.

But why is it then that I'm not too concerned about the outcome? Is it because it was inevitable that all of my dark and twisted secrets would be uncovered? And this little piece of the puzzle might only scratch the surface? Or is it because I'm tired of holding on to the burden of keeping things from my family? Not that, again, I find that Travois would pay too much mind to care regardless. But somewhere inside me, there's a thaw. A need for absolution in something other than revenge.

Forgiveness.

I know now that whatever comes from the other side of all this; the war, the secrecy, the curse, the treason . . . I want to remain in power, and I want to rule with my queen, and I can only do that honorably if I am forgiven. So something in me isn't keen to fight my brother on his knowledge of one of many potentially traitorous secrets, because soon I'd need to start finding a way to speak for all of my errors and find a way to build trust around me within this kingdom again.

Soon, everyone in the Society might learn of my deceit, my selfishness, and they will likely turn on me and it would be easier to handle if I had my sister, my wife and possibly my brother on my side.

So, I don't try to stop him from sharing just one of many bones I've settled for my plan. Instead, I take a moment to analyze the other two who will also be privileged to the knowledge Trav is about to reveal. Am I worried about either of them knowing? I can't be too sure. I'd say I trust Kacian more than Zharus right now, and that's only because I haven't been too blind to not notice how strange Zhar has been acting lately.

Still, I don't speak a word, rather I wait for him to pull the plug and expose this big damning secret of mine, ready to finally get it off my shoulders, because do I really care so much to hold on to a secret that might wield insignificance in the grand scheme of things when the subject of such is suffering just a few levels below where we all stand? I know it might tear Troy up; she wanted truths from me and all I gave her were more excuses as to why I can't provide her truths just yet. Her disappointment will sting but I know this too shall pass.

"Family bonding and all, maybe I'll go grab my sister and let her in on all the fun." He's a pusher. He likes to dig and dig until the dam holding in your very last nerve breaks and you snap. It's his favorite thing to do to people—for whatever fucked up reason, I am unaware—and right now, I know that's what he's doing. He's prolonging his big reveal by punishing me in the form of pushing . Pushing me to break so that maybe I present myself as the bad guy once more before he finally tells all. It's a game of his I know too well.

"I'm right here, dumb ass." Troy smacks Trav's upper arm with the back of her hand before turning to shoot her daggered stare at me. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Not that sister," Travois quips, though only I understand the attempt at humor. "You see, Lucynda isn't here because of some stupid soul-bind lore, is she brother?"

"Lucynda is my tether," I state as if I need to defend myself to anyone.

I am the king, siblings or not. And right now, Travois is lucky I'm letting him have his oddly entertaining fifteen minutes of fame before he disappears and we don't see him again for another week or two. But he's not wrong. That's not the sole reason why she's here.

"Oh, but that would be too easy, wouldn't it, Rivian? Go on, tell her. Or maybe I'll bring Amy over here to share the great news."

"Who the fuck is Amy?" I can't bother with Troy right now. I don't want to hear her or look at her. I can already feel my treachery puncturing her trust in me. And the way Travois chooses to taunt the situation seems almost covetous and ruthless, and for no real reason.

" Ameliana ." All four of us rear our heads over to Zharus, who's obviously come to the realization using the context clues Travois has been feeding anyone who will listen. His response resembles an eye-opening gesture; mimicking a lightbulb going off in his head.

"My mom?" Troian's head twists back to me and then to Trav. It's stronger, the way I know this news might break her heart. "But what does she have to do with-"

"Troy," I whisper, still not brave enough to face her straight on. I can feel Trav's eyes burn holes into my temples as the air between Kacian and Zharus grows more aware.

"No. That's not possible. That would mean that-" Troian takes a few steps back, her eyes searching everyone else's before falling to the floor in disbelief.

I finally look up at her, eager to know she doesn't hate me. Something unknown and foreign creeping into my veins.

I open my mouth, prepared to give her the truth though I know it's only half of such. But as her eyes finally reach mine again, I finish what Travois started.

"Lucynda is your sister."